Conclusions
by sweetart28
Summary: After a night of drinking, House and Cameron end up back at her apartment. They thought it would be a one night event but every action has consequences. Set around S3. Some language
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I sadly own nothing.

She offered to buy him a drink. Just a casual gathering between an employee and her boss. The drink turned into two drinks which turned into a couple of empty bottles. They shared a cab that made its way to her apartment. The effects of the alcohol gave Cameron the courage to invite House in for a minute and gave House only enough mental capacity to reply with an "Uh-huh."

Before the alcohol-induced haze could dissipate, they ended up in bed together. As he entered her, her eyes squeezed shut. Despite the exorbitant amount of alcohol consumed, she knew she would never forget this night. The sexual tension that had been growing for the last three years had finally been released and before either could think of the consequences, they both drifted off to sleep.

House woke first with a growing pain in his leg and a throbbing ache in his head. He was aware of the unfamiliar surroundings immediately and it only took a minute to recognize the naked brunette that lay to his right. He suppressed a groan for fear of waking his bed companion and cupped his head in his hands. After weighing his options for approximately thirty seconds, he quickly removed himself from the bed, slipped on his discarded boxers, jeans, and t-shirt, made a quick trip to the bathroom for relief, and slipped out the front door.

Cameron woke to the sound of her front door shutting. She attempted to sit up but her head decided it felt more comfortable resting atop the pillow. She knew House had left and figured it was for the best since they were both in no shape to have a serious conversation. Once they did, she would probably tell him that leaving _it_ in the past was the best course of action.

She wouldn't act differently around him; Cameron had not spent half of her life dreaming of being a well-respected doctor just to have those dreams shattered by rumors of her sleeping her way to the top. She knew it wouldn't be difficult to convince House that nothing should come of this. He would most likely be the one to bring it up if he wasn't so afraid of having a serious conversation about anything.

After showering and picking out an appropriate outfit for the day—a violet, v-neck sweater with a black, high-waisted pencil skirt—Cameron styled her hair and applied a thin layer of make-up. Noticing the dark circles under her eyes, she added a little more concealer and prayed for the banging in her head to subside.

_This will not be a good day_

At 11:30 a.m., Cameron found the courage to speak to her boss. She walked into his office and found him with his eyeglasses perched on his nose and a pen in hand. In her mind, there was nothing sexier than a man who could pull off a cute pair of spectacles. _This is not the time for that Allison_, she thought to herself. "Sorry, if you're busy I could…"

House looked up from his work to see Cameron fidgeting at the door. "No, it's fine." He spoke as he removed his glasses. "Ah, you don't look so good."

"Don't you know the way to a woman's heart," Cameron said as she lowered herself into the chair in front of his desk. "Look, I just think we need to…"

"…talk about last night. Ya, I know. This is my take on things: I think we had too much to drink did something that you've dreamed about for 3 years and for that, I say you're welcome."

She knew she should feel embarrassed and offended, but she still couldn't help but find his obvious awkwardness terribly endearing. "I think we should just leave it in the past. Forget about the whole thing."

House was stunned. He expected crying, pleading, or resignation but he did not expect her to say something like that. "Yea, that sounds…perfect, actually."

"Ok good. So I'll be in the clinic if you wan- I mean, need me."

"Right."

Cameron left his office holding her head up high. She _knew_ that she could suppress her feelings for the sake of her job. She just wished that sometimes she could have her cake and eat it too.

House watched as she strode out of the office and felt a slight twinge from within his body. He set his headphones over his ears and attempted to drown out any thoughts with music.

He was certainly not going to think about the slight disappointment that he now felt.

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A/N: This is my first fic ever so I'm sorry if you hate it. Just don't jump to any conclusions regarding the future of the plot. Constructive criticism is welcomed!


	2. Chapter 2

_One month later…_

"Six-letter word for the male reproductive organ of a plant…starts with an 's'."

"Stigma," replied Foreman.

"No, stamen," said Cameron without looking up from the June issue of Italian Vogue.

"That's funny, I was going to say 'schlong'…but I guess that's seven letters." House made his way into the conference room from his connected office. "Okay, still no patient, so I guess it's clinic time for the lot of you. Foreman, you're…"

Before House could finish his sentence, Cameron jumped from her chair, startling the three men around her. She ran from the room with both hands covering her mouth.

"Yikes, Cameron looked positively green. Didn't she vomit yesterday as well?" wondered Chase as he readjusted his position.

"Yeah, probably the flu. Although she doesn't seem too groggy or upset. I mean, yesterday she seemed rather…dare I say, content? God, I hope she's not pregnant." After Foreman spoke, Chase burst out laughing. Foreman joined in and a chuckling frenzy ensued. Neither noticed as all the blood drained from their boss's face.

As Chase and Foreman settled down, House regained his composure and eyed them angrily. "If you girls are finished, would you mind getting out of here and doing your jobs…or am I going to have to punish you both by taking away your _Teen Beat_ magazines?"

The two fellows got up to leave but before they could make it out the door, their boss spoke again. "By the way, if you see Pukey McGee along the way, take her down to the clinic with you. I don't want the smell of last night's Chicken Caesar salad stinking up my workspace."

With a roll of their eyes, Chase and Foreman headed toward the clinic. House grabbed his cane and hobbled down the corridor to the one place where he knew he'd find answers.

* * *

House threw open the door and immediately lowered himself onto the couch of his favorite oncologist.

Without raising his eyes from the patient's file, Wilson could sense his best friend's anxiety. "Oh House, do come in. Please, take a seat."

"No time for formalities, Jimmy boy. I think I'm in trouble."

"Is it the Socs? Do they want to start a rumble?" Wilson asked with fake concern.

"Ha. Ha." House was in no mood for his friend's attempt at humor. He rose to leave but Wilson took pity on him.

"Okay, wait. What's the matter?"

"I need help with a, uh, patient," said House warily.

"Do you think it's cancer? What are the symptoms?" Wilson's curiosity grew at the obviously distressed and worried nature of his friend.

"30 year-old female with…," House began to speak, cautious not to disclose any confidential details, "…you see…there's vomiting especially in the early hours of the day, a distinct flushing of the skin primarily in the cheek region…," House gestured toward his face, "…also, loss of appetite particularly when it comes to hot, caffeinated beverages." House was scouring his brain for any instances when Cameron acted oddly over the last couple weeks.

When House stopped talking, Wilson figured it was his turn to speak. "Alright, let me get this straight. A young woman experiencing _morning sickness_, a natural glow, and an avoidance of strong coffee?"

House nodded and Wilson continued. "Well House, I may be just a simple-minded oncologist but it sounds as if your patient is…" Wilson dramatically looked to his left, then to his right, and 

leaned toward his friend. An open-mouthed and wide-eyed House naturally leaned forward as well, mirroring the actions before him. "…pregnant…with child. Got a bun in the oven. Knocked up -"

House cut off the oncologist. "So you…you think she's, um, pregnant?" _Gulp._

"Of course. Wow, the world-famous diagnostician cannot diagnose pregnancy." Wilson raised his hand like a schoolboy. "Permission to tease?"

House just glared at his 'former' best friend and made his way to the door.

Wilson called out to him before he left. "Wait! Is it someone you know?" He could not wipe the smile from his face.

"Yeah. Your girlfriend." And with that, House exited the office.

Wilson stared at a spot on the door long after his friend had gone with the smile slowly fading from his face. He brought his eyes down to the desk phone and dialed the number from his memory.

"Hey Sarah…yeah, is there, uh…is there something you needed to tell me?"

House limped back to his office and immediately shut his blinds, turned on some music, and collapsed in his leather desk chair. He couldn't help but wonder if Wilson was right. All the symptoms seemed to indicate the early signs of pregnancy. _ Was Cameron pregnant? And if so,_ _was it his child?_ He realized it was about a month ago when it happened and did not recall the use of a condom.

It had to be true.

"Fuck."

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**A/N:** Comments would be heaven! I really appreciate everyone's feedback and it really doesn't take that long and it makes me feel giddy when you say something kind or determined to fix whatever needs fixing. Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I'm terribly sorry this took so long. I actually meant to post it on Sunday but I'm an incredibly lazy individual. Thanks to all those who reviewed last time; it always makes me happy to see your responses so please please please let me know what you think!

* * *

"How long has he been in there?" Cameron asked after surveying the conference room where her two colleagues were stationed and noticing the locked door that led to their boss's office.

"Well, he's been in there the whole time I've been back, so at least two hours," replied Foreman from behind his medical journal. Chase kept his eyes focused on the crossword puzzle he had started earlier that day.

Cameron recognized the signs of a troubled House. "Shouldn't someone ask if something's wrong?"

Both of her male colleagues looked at her, then each other, and subsequently returned to their respective pastimes.

With a sigh, Cameron walked to the adjoining door and knocked. After one minute and no answer, she let herself into the office. House had his back facing the door with both legs stretched out on top of a cabinet.  
She was worried when he didn't make some sarcastic comment or yell at her for entering without an invitation. "House?"

He swiftly turned around and noticed the concern in her eyes. Oddly enough, she noticed concern behind_ his_ eyes as well.

After a moment, House gained enough courage to address the unspoken. "Look, I know it was a spur of the moment action and I know that we both agreed to leave it in the past but I didn't think at the time that my magic seed would cause your bud to bloom."  
"My bud to…huh?" Out of everything that House could possibly say at that moment, this was something she never expected.  
"Quit playing dumb. I know you're carrying my cub."  
"What are you…?"  
House stood up and began to pace the length of his office as he rambled on. "You've stopped drinking coffee, you threw up yesterday and this morning. We had sex about a month ago and you have this rosy color in your cheek that could either be eczema or baby glow."

"You think I'm…" Cameron was completely lost and utterly confused.

He ignored her and continued voicing his concerns. He was too caught up in his own pensive mindset to notice the confusion marring his pretty immunologist's face.

"No, I know you are. I really need to know what your intentions are because I've already given this some thought. If you need money or something, I'll provide it. If you need someone to go with you to the, um, 'Shmabortion' clinic…," House spoke the last two words quietly in hopes that the quieter he spoke, the less angry Cameron would get, "…if that's what you've decided, then I can do that too. The one thing I _cannot_ do is father this baby. I know this is where you try to tell me that I'm great daddy material and once this…," House weakly pointed toward her stomach, "…thing is born, everything will just fall into place but I know the kind of person I am and I own 'The Shining' on DVD so if you want me to pop it in to teach you about the effects of drugs and alcohol on grown men then…"  
"Stop, House, just stop!" He finally halted behind his desk and looked in her direction. She saw fear in his eyes and realized that he was probably scared shitless. "Is it alright if I say something now?"

He glanced at his feet and then back up at the woman who was ruining his life…or whose life _he_ was ruining. "As long as you won't declare your intentions to make an honest man out of me."

Cameron walked forward until only the desk separated them. "I'm not going to propose. We're not…we're not having a child." She looked down at her hands as she massaged the desk.

His eyes grew in horror. "Holy shit. It's twins?!"

He began pacing again until she leaned over the desk and grabbed his bicep to slow his step.  
"No, not twins. I'm not fucking pregnant," she said with finality.  
"You're not…you never were…?"  
"No. Jesus, House, it's called food poisoning. Two nights ago I decided to try that new restaurant called Raw. I probably should've deduced from the name that the escargot wasn't the way to go," she smirked.  
He found his way to the chair and lowered himself into the welcoming arms of his seat. "What about the coffee-avoidance and the permanent blush?"

"I don't know. The idea of drinking hot, bitter coffee on an already weak stomach didn't really appeal to me. And the redness, well, if you must know, it _is_ eczema."  
"Really?" he asked.  
"No, it's not eczema, fuck! It's called 'stepping out of the house and enjoying the summer sun.' Most normal people have heard of it or tried it at least once in their lives." She sat in the chair in front of his desk.

"This is really not the time for you to attempt humor, don't ya think?"

"I'm sorry, it's just…wait, why am I apologizing?" She directed at House, with a few questions of her own. "How long did you think I was pregnant? And why were you so eager to abandon all of your parental responsibilities?"

"Can I just think for one damn second, please? Jeez, twenty seconds ago I thought my life was over. I need a minute to gather my bearings." House rubbed both eyes with his palms in an attempt to clear his mind.

Angrily, Cameron rose from her seat and defensively crossed both arms over her chest. "You know what. Take a minute, take a fucking lifetime. I'm leaving. I just…I just can't be around you right now."

She left his office and he made no effort to stop her. She needed to cool down and House needed to figure out why he suddenly felt so cold.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry if I disappointed anyone with the previous chapter but I never intended for this to be a baby-fic. However, just because there is no baby, does not mean things can't work out for the best. On with the chapter!

* * *

Cameron spent the rest of the work-day helping out in the Immunology wing. She just needed some time away from Diagnostics and the inconsiderate bastard that ran the department.

_God, he thought I was pregnant and that thought was enough to ruin his life? Asshole._

At 6:30 p.m., Cameron made her way back to the office and gathered her belongings. On her way to the elevator, she noticed that House's blinds were still shut. She just kept on walking past his office, onto the elevator, out the hospital doors, into her car, through her apartment door, and into bed.

House remained in his office, playing with his Gameboy, until he noticed that he was sitting in complete darkness. He rose from his chair, grabbed his cane and jacket, and headed to his bike. During the 10-minute bike ride to his intended destination, House mulled over the events of this strange day.

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House found himself setting foot on the front lawn of James Wilson's condominium. He retrieved the spare key that was conveniently and idiotically hidden under a rock. He opened the door and found his best friend seated on the couch, watching a basketball game with a beer in hand. House limped to the coffee table where the remote control was located and immediately pressed the power button cutting the only source of sound in the room.

"Hey! I was watching tha-"

"- It was Cameron." House interrupted his friend with an abrupt tone.

"What was Cameron?"

"Cameron, the symptoms. They're hers."

"Cameron's your patient?" Wilson was slightly lost.

"No, she's the one with the symptoms." House dropped himself into the chair that faced the sofa.

"Cameron and the patient both have the same symptoms?"

"No, Cameron was the one with the symptoms and there was no patient."

"Wait. Cameron's pregnant?"

"No, she just had the symptoms that weren't symptoms at all actually."

"Cameron was symptomatic and asymptomatic?"

"Yes."

"Uh-huh." Wilson had the cliché look of confusion on his face complete with furrowed eyebrows and a raised upper lip. "Bad news, I'm confused. Good news, you've almost reached the Anne Heche echelon of crazy."

With a sigh, House attempted to explain the situation to his daft friend. "Just try your hardest to refrain from speaking until I'm done. Cameron and I bumped uglies about a month ago and recently the warning signs began to pop up: the vomiting, the glow, etc. etc. Then this morning, Wesley Snipes and Crocodile Dundee made a comment about pregnancy and it all connected so perfectly. So then I spoke with you and it was confirmed. So then I went to her…"

"Uh-oh."

"...yeah, pretty much. She's not pregnant and now she hates my guts."

"Why is that?" Wilson wasn't even sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

"Well, I practically abandoned all responsibility and _might've_ implied that being a dad would be the end of my life." House crossed both arms behind his head and leaned back in the chair. "Oh, and I _possibly_ offered to take her to an abortion clinic."

"Is that all?" Wilson was dreading a response.

"Should there be more?"

After a few moments of silence, Wilson presumed it was his turn to talk. "And you need me to tell you…what exactly?"

"What I need to do to avoid a lawsuit or even worse…an interview process."

"Firstly, you'll need to apologize for being such an ass. Second, make sure she's doing alright. You might've scared the poor girl and she's definitely hurting. The third step is, well,…make-up sex. Tell me how it goes, especially the last part." Wilson finished with a wink.

"You disgust me," said House as he grabbed his friend's half-finished bottle of beer from the table and took a swig.

After a minute, Wilson spoke again. "You must feel pretty relieved, huh?"

Wilson's question was met with silence. House was deep in thought as he considered what he could possibly say to Cameron to make her forget about the whole thing. "What?"

"I said, you must feel relieved…right?"

"Oh yeah, of course…" He _must_ feel thankful that this 'close call' was nothing more than his presumptuously overactive mind at work. _Nothing could be worse than bringing my spawn into this world_, House thought. "…there's a lot of relief…being felt over here."

"Uh-_huh_." A sly grin made its way onto Wilson's face.

"Don't." House glared at his friend in a forewarning gesture; he was in no mood for this psychoanalytical bullshit.

"What? I didn't _do_ anything." Wilson couldn't clear the smirk from his lips or the twinkle from his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking in that pea-sized brain of yours and you're wrong. I'm not in a proper state of mind right now. I feel the same as I did that one time we went on that roller coaster with…"

"…the one with the yellow…?" questioned the baffled oncologist.

"…yeah, and the seven loopy…" House made a downward spiral gesture with his pointer finger.

"… oh yeah!" Wilson wagged a pointed finger toward his friend as the memory came back. "My, that wasn't our smartest moment."

"I'd say. I think it was the pre-ride cotton candy feast that really did us in," said House as he scratched his head with a twisted expression on his face.

"Hey! You're avoiding the issue," admonished Wilson. "Were you…looking forward to having a baby?"

"Are you crazy? Could you imagine _me_ with a child, playing happy family with Miss 'Daffodils and Dandelions' over there?" House pointed toward the front door as if Cameron was standing on the other side. One thing he _did_ know was that he needed to leave before this conversation turned serious.

"And you're still evading," Wilson pointed out.

"Okay, you got me. I was genuinely excited for this baby."

The oncologist took the bait. "Really? Was it just the idea of having a baby or was it the idea of _Cameron_ having your baby?"

"Actually it was option 3, the idea of seeing Cameron's jugs grow to an obscene size."

"Fine, make jokes. But the longer you bottle it all up, the worse you'll feel."

"Funny. That's the exact warning I got from my proctologist," said House as he left Wilson's place in a huff.

Sometimes, Wilson wondered why he even bothered.

* * *

**A/N:** It's me again! Just wanted to let you guys know that I truly appreciate all of you that follow this story and who comment on the chapters but I would really really really appreciate a little more love as in more reviews. I honestly don't know if anyone's following it anymore so if you guys could just let me know what you think; constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome (so are compliments, hehe). I want to make this story the best it can be and I love reading your reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

House had a choice to make. He could drive to Cameron's house, apologize, and ask for forgiveness like any gentleman would after abandoning the mother of his imaginary baby.

Or he could go back to his place and mellow out, ending the most hectic day of his life.

House was never one for apologizing so after leaving Wilson's place, he climbed atop his motorcycle and headed back home where a bottle of scotch with a Vicodin chaser awaited his arrival.

House opened his front door and limped to the kitchen. The cabinet above the stove contained his desired alcohol which he grabbed without hesitation. He also retrieved a tumbler because a bottle of scotch minus a glass is the first sign of an alcoholic.

After downing the first two shots immediately, he took his time on the third. House was trying to figure out why this day had taken such a toll on him. Nothing had really changed that much from morning to night…except for the fact that his current employee and one-time sex partner now loathed his very being.

House supposed it still could be worse; he could be an expectant father right now. _It's really in everyone's best interest that this baby never existed._ There won't be any worrying about child support or dealing with a hormonal Cameron at work. She can continue working and won't have to take time off to bear and raise a child. Plus, the baby wouldn't be left to wonder where his or her daddy was and why he was never there.

House broke out of his self-analytical trance as he began to wonder why he was thinking about the welfare of a child that never even existed or why he was even thinking about this whole ordeal at all.

_I just don't want the office to become a source of tension. It would just be more work for me, that's all._

House downed the rest of his drink and grabbed the television control. He pressed the power button and the television came roaring to life.

Great, it was some shit about a couple with eight children. _What morons! They have twins and then want to reproduce again._

Three hours and six episodes later, House turned off the television, only after scheduling his TiVo to record any episodes he might miss in the future.

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Cameron awoke the next morning at 6:00 a.m. exactly. She forced herself out of bed and put on her jogging clothes for a quick sprint around the neighborhood. She was feeling burdened with negative emotions and she just needed some release. After circling her block, Cameron made her way back into her apartment and into the shower. She had hoped that the jog would clear her mind and flush the negativity from her body but she just found herself more worked up after the shower.

_How dare he jump to conclusions; he didn't even ask about my condition or how I was feeling. He just thought about himself and what he was going through. Thank god we only had sex once. A relationship with that self-absorbed jerk is the last thing I need!_

Now she had to go to work and face that self-absorbed jerk but remain professional. She just wished that it was professional to come to work completely wasted.

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House stepped out of the shower and grabbed some fresh boxers and the jeans he had worn the day before. He grabbed a blue t-shirt from his dresser drawer and raised it to his nose. After deeming the shirt clean enough to wear, House threw on each article of clothing and made his way to the kitchen. The only edible products left in his house that weren't turning green or developing an unappetizing odor were a couple slices of bread, a bottle of honey, and a frozen pie crust.  
"Toast it is," House said to an empty kitchen and a frozen pastry shell.

At 9:00 a.m., House stepped off the elevator and headed toward the conference room. Upon entering, he found his three underlings sitting quietly at the conference table.

"Look alive, kiddies. Daddy just found us all a new case," House said as he walked to the white board.

"What are you doing here?" asked a clearly confused Chase.

"Hmm. That's a good question and I'm not sure I know the proper way to answer it…Let me think, let me think," House stroked his beard while sporting an overly dramatic look of confusion. "Oh yes! I work here."

"Very funny. I mean, what are you doing here at this hour…you _do_ realize that it's nine o' clock?" Chase noted.

"Yes that's correct Dr. Chase. And today is Thursday and this here table is made of wood. Now if we're done playing the 'State the Obvious' game, I'd like to get started on my workday," House teased.

Truthfully, his coming in early had little to do with a desire to work and a whole lot to do with a need to not be alone with his thoughts. Sadly, the only way to keep his mind occupied was by doing his job. The case that he stole from the E.R. wasn't particularly interesting but it _was_ something.

"Okay, today's lucky contestant is a 28 year-old female experiencing…"

House listed the symptoms on the board. After which, they ran a ten-minute differential diagnosis and by the end, the group concluded that the patient was experiencing some sort of allergic reaction. The case was very run-of-the-mill but something was off regarding the dynamics of the team and it was quite clear to House that Cameron was the source of the tension.

Neither Chase nor Foreman seemed to notice any strangeness which didn't surprise House in the least. _I could wear a sailor uniform and sing the symptoms and the only comment those boys could come up with would be sarcoidosis,_ House thought.

Although Cameron participated in their discussion, she was much quieter, only offering small contributions here and there. She didn't argue with any of House's diagnoses and allowed the snarky insults he slung her way. House just wanted some sort of reaction from her to prove that everything was okay between them but her stoicism indicated otherwise. He even upped his sarcasm a notch to make her fight back or yell or do…something.

At the end of the differential, House sent Chase to get a more detailed patient history, Foreman to run a few allergy tests, and Cameron to test the patient's blood.

Once again House was alone. He wasn't about to do any work so he decided to go bother someone who actually was.

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**A/N:** Oooh, a cliffhanger. Okay not really but still. A big THANK YOU to all of you that have taken some time to read and review. Anyway, I've been having some difficulty placing pen to paper so I wrote this part just so I could get something posted. Sorry if it's slightly disjointed or boring or too filler-ish. I haven't started the next chapter but the one directly afterward is pretty much done. Please don't hesitate to comment. I love reading what you guys have to say and my heart grows a little with each review I read.

If anyone cares, the show is Jon & Kate Plus 8, a guilty pleasure of mine.


	6. Chapter 6

House decided it had been far too long since he barged into his favorite oncologist's office.

"I'm hungr—" he started to announce while opening the door but closed his mouth as soon as he looked around the empty room. House found it interesting that this was one of the few times his storming in to Wilson's office did not directly result in a free meal.

He went back to his office where he popped two Vicodin and grabbed his Gameboy from the top desk drawer. "I'm all yours, Mario."

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Cameron always relished the brief moments of peace at Princeton Plainsboro. These moments were too few and far between so any chance she had to enjoy the tranquility of a quiet lab was much appreciated. There she sat as she waited for the results of the blood test. _Just one and a half more days of work and then the weekend_ she thought. Cameron just hoped that a weekend of re-juicing could fix whatever was broken in her life. She feared that there just weren't enough days or a strong enough adhesive to mend her cracked existence.

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No lab results, a broken iPod, and a dead Gameboy battery later, House decided to do something he once swore never to do voluntarily. As the elevator doors opened, the sight that met his eyes was one that sent shivers down his spine. A crowded clinic.

"Dr. House, signing in at 1:00."

The nurse in charge handed him a file and directed him toward Exam Room 2. He just hoped that whatever waited for him on the other side of that door wasn't contagious or covered in pus.

"Mrs…Wilder?" House read the name off the chart once inside the room. He looked up to see a middle-aged woman with red eyes and a tissue crumbled in her hands.

At first glance, House would swear that she was crying. He found that a bit strange since the crying usually came at the _end_ of the examination. He looked closer at her chart and noticed that swollen eyes were actually part of her symptoms.

"Yes. Are you my doctor?"

"Seeing as how I have this stethoscope in my hand and all the cool doctors on T.V. carry these things around, let's say…yes."

"Oh, okay. Well, I've just been sneezing non-stop recently, with a persistent cough as well, and my nose has been all clogged up. I just assumed it was a cold until recently when I've been having some difficulty breathing. Do you think there is something wrong with my lungs? Could it be some form of lung cancer? I mean I used to smoke but…"

The patient began rambling on which did nothing to assist House in his diagnosis and did everything to amplify his oncoming tension headache. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his vial of Vicodin. He dry-swallowed two pills and secretly hoped the painkillers would soothe the throbbing in his head.

"…you know, like those commercials that talk about the effects of smoking…"

"Shhhhhhhh, for the love of God," House interjected as he uncapped his pen. His patient looked both shocked and outraged at the same time. "You don't need to tell me every detail of your life. I'm not your therapist, I'm a _real_ doctor."

"Wha—"

House cut her off before she started speaking again. "Do you have a pet or have you done anything new recently? Like take a vacation, start a new diet, uh, sleep in a field of hay?"

"No. My husband and I don't have any pets and I haven't done any of those things you just listed."

"How long have you been married?"

"This September will be our twentieth anniversary…why?"

"Any children?"

"A daughter but she's away at college. Does this—"

"I wouldn't be too worried about it Mrs. Walker…"

"Wilder," she corrected.

"…Yes, Mrs. Wilder. That's what I said. Anyway, just tell your boyfriend to get rid of the cat and the symptoms should clear up."

"Excuse me?"

House exhaled loudly in frustration. "You have feline hairs on the sleeve of your coat and a couple in your hair. So unless you've been rubbing a cat on your head for good luck, I assume you've been lying on or in something where a cat did his shedding. A pillow, perhaps?"

"How dare you!"

"Hey, I'm not here to judge. Either get rid of the cat or get rid of the guy with the cat."

House left the exam room before his patient started throwing things. He walked up to the front desk where a nurse was sorting through charts.

"Dr. House signing out at…" he glanced at the wall clock, "…1:30."

The nurse didn't even try to hide her annoyance with the man in front of her. "You were only in there for thirty minutes. Not even, it's only 1:16."

"I rounded up. I have a patient that needs me more than these morons do, so I'm leaving now."

House lazily made his way toward the elevator but he picked up speed as soon as he heard Cuddy's high heels clicking behind him.

"House."

He was not about to turn around because, knowing from experience, no good _ever_ came from a conversation with Cuddy. He moved as quickly as a man with a cane could with the elevator directly in his line of vision.

"House, you can't outrun me!"

He suddenly stopped moving and did an about-face which caused his boss to halt rather awkwardly to avoid running into him.

"Jeez Cuddy, if I hadn't turned around just then, that could've been the equivalent of a prison rape…I don't do backdoor!" House shouted for two doctors, three nurses, and one wheelchair-bound patient to hear.

Cuddy was unamused. "What would it take to make you shut up and do what I say?"

"Mmm, a 10,000-a-week raise and a Shetland pony," House replied.

Cuddy really wasn't in the mood. "Anyway, I was hoping you could tell me what's going on with Dr. Cameron."

"I don't think I know what you mean."

"I _mean_, she nearly bit the head off one of the clinic nurses earlier and she yelled at the new lab tech for breathing too loudly," Cuddy shot back.

Had House not known that he was the cause of Cameron's abnormal behavior, he would have been proud of her newfound hard edge. "I heard she also accused a woman of cheating on her husband because she had an allergic reaction," he contributed.

"So I'm going to ask you again. Do you know what's wrong with her?"

House knew where this was leading. If he told Cuddy why Cameron was angry, he would get a lecture. If he didn't tell her, there would still be a lecture. He didn't know what to say so he just remained quiet.

"Oh House, if you did something, I _will_ find out," Cuddy warned.

"Yea, yea, yea." After this conversation, House realized that he would much rather be sitting alone in his office stewing in thought if the alternative was listening to people talk about the affairs of others…affairs that were clearly none of their damn business.

* * *

Please, please, please review!! Ugh, it literally took me two hours to post this tonight (Thanks wireless internet!!) so I'd appreciate the love or the concrit!!


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the day went by slowly for the members of the Diagnostics wing at the hospital. Their tests came back negative for an allergic reaction and their patient's health was not improving. As soon as the clock struck 6, Cameron grabbed her belongings and left the hospital. She just wanted to cook herself a nice dinner, run a bath, and climb into bed.

xxxxxxxxxx

As she added more seasoning to her small chicken, Cameron heard three loud knocks at the door. She was consciously hoping it wasn't House but subconsciously, she knew better. She opened the door to find her boss leaning on his cane on the opposite side of the door. She only opened the door enough so he could speak but not so he could enter.

"Can I…come in?" he asked uneasily.

"I don't know. Do you have anything to say first?" She was giving him the opportunity to make things right but she almost knew he wouldn't take the bait.

House shifted his balance, clearly uncomfortable with what she was suggesting. Cameron noticed his uneasiness but was not looking to alleviate any tension.

"Yea, I do," he started. "I just wanted to let you know that…I really have to pee.""Oh God," Cameron groaned.

"What? It's hard for me to control myself…I _am_ crippled you know."

"Your _thigh_ is your only defect…although I could be convinced that your brain and your heart are pretty fucked up as well." The slight twinkle in her eyes and the snarky comment were all House needed to see and hear to know that he had a chance to make this right. Just as long as he made things better between them and didn't fuck things up even more.

"Touché. But I _do_ really have to use the little boy's room. I think the infarction messed up my urinary tract. You know how the song goes: the thigh bones connected to the…bladder bone," sang House.

"The bladder isn't a bone." Cameron tilted her head and placed her free hand on her hip.

"What are you, a doctor or something?" House snarked.

After a few moments where neither made a sound, Cameron opened the door to let him in. She didn't _want_ to let him in but she knew that if anyone in the entire world were to try to prove a point by urinating on her floor, House would be the one to do it.

xxxxxxxxxx

"So, why are you here?" Cameron asked as soon as House walked back into her living room. "I take it you didn't come all this way to use my bathroom."

"That's true. However, had I known before that you littered your bathroom with potpourri and little flower-shaped soaps, I probably would've visited a lot sooner."

House took a seat on a chair that sat opposite Cameron's sofa. The manner in which he sat was less than graceful since the chair was clearly designed with teenage girls in mind. "What the hell am I sitting in?"

Cameron suppressed a snicker as best she could but couldn't conceal the full smile that graced her face. "It's a butterfly chair."

"Oh, it's a butterfly chair! Gee, I thought it was going to have some ridiculously cutesy name. Boy am I glad I was wrong."

"I didn't force you to sit in it, you know." Cameron wondered whether House was going to actually say what was on his mind or if she was supposed to guess. Before the silence that settled between them became uncomfortable, Cameron decided to just come out with the question that was on her mind.

"Do you really think that if I _were_ pregnant, I wouldn't tell the father?"

House really didn't expect Cameron to go there, especially in such a blunt manner. He had come to her apartment, reluctantly, to sort things out but in his own way. Now she was looking for some kind of answer which he needed to provide. "Well, I could understand it if, say, that father…were me."

She was taken aback. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Just…never mind. I, uh, I gotta go." He started to leave and Cameron knew this might be her only opportunity to get real information out of him. She wasn't going to let him leave now.

"No! I need to hear this. You can't just come over, raise my expectations of you, and then just bolt when things turn serious. Do you really think so little of me? I _need_ to know."

House saw an inquisitive yet almost apprehensive expression on her face. As she spoke her last words, his mind immediately reverted back to the day Cameron asked if he liked her. House had said no because he knew if he had said yes, she would've interpreted his response as a love confession. He didn't need that. He didn't need her.

With a sigh, he proceeded, "No, I _know_ you would never do something like that. Your moral compulsion and decency outrank your self-preservation."

Cameron bit her lip. "You make that sound as if it's a bad thing."

"It isn't a bad thing. Quite in fact, it's the opposite of a bad thing…but it _is_ un-American."

"I guess that makes me a traitor to my country, a regular Benedict Arnold," she teased.

The smallest of smiles appeared on the gruff diagnostician's face.

House knew it was for the best if he just bit the bullet and said whatever would make his employee happy, or at least less of a pain-in-the-ass at work. "Look, I know that I should've been more polite or even less…myself, but I was freaking out a little. And I promise, next pregnancy scare, I'll be a little kinder…not like you'll have another scare or anything. But if you did that's totally cool, _really_ none of my business." House decided that if he wanted to save what little self-respect he still possessed, he needed to leave her place immediately.

"So are we...cool?"

Cameron figured that was as close to an apology as she would ever get out of him. "Yea, we're cool."

"Okay great." House started for the door but Cameron spoke again before he could leave.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Was that the question you wanted to ask?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "No. I was just wondering, I mean…did you come over here to apologize or were you just intending on doing damage control?"

He knew she was trudging into dangerous territory. "I don't think I understand."

"Did you want to say sorry for hurting me or are you just trying to keep the peace at the office? What I'm trying to say is, if the atmosphere at the office wasn't so tense, would you still be here?" She searched his eyes, looking for some kind of answer she feared he would never vocalize.

House hesitated before he spoke. The truth was he didn't truly know why he was there at all. "Honestly, I don't know."

"Oh," replied Cameron as she glanced at her intertwined hands.

He walked a few feet closer until he stood just inches in front of her. House willed Cameron to keep her eyes down because he wasn't sure he could say this to her if she was looking straight at him. "But I do mean it. I am sorry…" She glanced back up and into his eyes; they were sincere. "…honestly."

She held his gaze for a minute before he stepped back slightly and looked back down at his cane. "Okay," said Cameron, glad for whatever honesty he was putting forth.

"Okay." House turned on his heel. He needed to leave before he let more words spew out of his mouth. "Don't be late tomorrow," House hollered before opening her front door and stepping outside.

"I never am!" She shouted before he shut the door behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you like this chapter. I was confident with it yesterday but now I'm not so sure. Please let me know what you think. It always makes me smile!


	8. Chapter 8

Finally, Friday had arrived. Cameron had been praying for this day to come for a week. She stepped off the elevator and made her way towards the Diagnostics wing. She was the first to arrive and immediately headed toward the coffeemaker. Cameron scooped the coffee grounds into the filter and started up the machine. She took a seat at the conference table and waited for her colleagues and boss to show up.

After hearing a genuine apology from House the night before, Cameron's mood had improved considerably. She knew from experience that an unexpected pregnancy scare could frighten even the most well-adjusted person and House was definitely _not_ that person.

She couldn't help but smirk at the idea of House working himself into a frenzy at the thought of becoming a father. The beep from the coffeemaker stirred Cameron from her introspective daze and she rose to retrieve her mug. As if on cue, Chase and Foreman walked through the door and sleepily mumbled their greetings to Cameron. They both headed straight for the coffee and Cameron shook her head while speculating how they survived a workday when she wasn't there to make their preferred coffee.

As they settled down, the adjoining door to House's office swung open and their boss limped into the conference room. Cameron wondered if he had been in there the whole time, but quickly shook that thought from her head when she realized that she was letting her mind wander too much as of late.

"So, what's going on with the patient?" House asked to no one in particular.

Foreman began to explain their findings. "It turns out, not only is our patient allergic to pollen but also to chamomile tea. A few weeks after her immunotherapy ended, she began experiencing dyspnea and coughing fits. She made herself some tea to alleviate the symptoms."

"Unfortunately for her, there was a cross-reactivity among the chamomile extract from the tea and the ragweed pollen, which caused the anaphylactic reaction," Chase finished with a smug smile.

"Before you take that victory lap, maybe you should remind yourself that it took you a day to diagnose an allergy," House admonished. "Cameron, discharge the patient and then finish the paperwork. Thelma, it's time for your clinic duty and Louise, it's time for you to do _my_ clinic duty."

House assigned tasks to Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, respectively, and then turned back to the whiteboard to erase the latest solved case. With a muted huff, Chase left the room first, followed by Foreman and then Cameron.

XxxxxxxxxX

Wilson grabbed a plastic container of fruit and walked to the cafeteria cash register.

"That'll be 2.95."

"He'll also be purchasing one of these." House placed a pudding cup next to Wilson's fruit for the cashier to ring up.

"No. He won't," Wilson asserted.

"C'mon. A dingo ate my wallet!" House cried out in his best Australian accent.

Wilson groaned and then gestured to the checkout girl to add the price of the pudding into the total. They walked to an empty table nearby and began eating their particular snacks.

"I can only assume you're here for other reasons than to drain me of all my money one snack pack at a time?"

"Now that you've mentioned it, there's a Yankees' game tonight. If you bring the beer, I'll supply the cable and the hours of drunken heckling," House proposed.

"As tempting an offer as that may be, I have a date tonight."

"Aw man, are you still doing that stripper?"

Wilson fixed his friend with a look of disinterest. "I am not _doing_ a stripper, I am _dating_ a restaurant server. There's a difference, you know."

"Difference, my ass. Both strippers and waitresses are paid to serve their clients and I'll let you guess which girl I always give the bigger tip to." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"With an outlook like that, it's shocking that you have such a hard time landing a girlfriend." Wilson forked a piece of cantaloupe into his mouth.

"It's because you've scooped up all the available strippers that are actual girlfriend material." House swallowed a spoonful of pudding.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I'm drained."

"Good, so skip the date and come over tonight."

"Quit begging; I'm not going to cancel. I'm sure you can find someone else who can stand your presence for one night…that is, if such a person does indeed exist."

House dropped his head in annoyance. "What did I say before about the jokes?"

"So, did you apologize to Cameron?" The oncologist asked suddenly.

"Change of subject." It wasn't a request so much as it was a gentle demand.

"Sure," Wilson knew the exact buttons to press to get House to open up, or at the very least, make his friend extremely uncomfortable. "I got a call from Stacy yesterday…"

House shoved another spoonful of butterscotch pudding into his mouth. "It wasn't exactly an apology but the air in the office is definitely…less charged."

Wilson gave a knowing smirk. "You begged for forgiveness and then kissed her stomach, didn't you?"

"Yea, right before I assembled the crib and painted the room pink," the diagnostician replied sarcastically.

"So you wanted a girl then?"

Just then House grabbed his thigh as a shooting pain jolted throughout his leg.

"Don't sympathy pains generally affect your back and uterus?" Wilson was truly thankful that House had spoken to him about his baby scare. He now had something to hold over his acerbic friend's head for the rest of their lives.

House glared at his former pal. "I left my Vicodin back in my office. Thanks for this magical conversation." With the aid of his cane, he rose from the chair.

"Ay, House," Wilson called back before he could leave. "So, things are…okay between you and Cameron?"

"As good as they'll get, I suppose," he answered honestly.

Wilson decided his friend needed a little push in the right direction. "I think she likes baseball."

House then turned and left the cafeteria.

XxxxxxxxxX

Cameron was sitting alone at the conference table with a stack of papers in front of her. She barely flinched as House came barreling in.

"Hey," she uttered.

House only grunted in response. Cameron took that as a sign he was in no mood to talk. She returned to the paperwork as he walked to the coffee pot and filled his mug with the lukewarm beverage. House remained at the counter and observed his employee as she readjusted her reading glasses while filling out the necessary forms. She was one of a small group of people who actually looked better wearing glasses, he decided. She seemed more mature and focused when she wore them and less like the young, naïve doctor he hired several years ago.

Cameron could feel House's intense gaze and insecurity got the best of her. "Do you want something?" she asked in a polite tone.

"Baseball," was the only word he could think of at the moment. He mentally slapped his own forehead.

"Field Hockey," she immediately replied.

"What?" House was genuinely confused.

"I thought we were just naming sports," Cameron answered drolly.

"No," he said sharply. "Do you like it? Baseball?"

"Yes," she responded, not with absolute sincerity.

"There's a game tonight."

"Yankees, right?"

"Yea." He sensed that she wasn't going to make this easy for him. "If you want, we can do our part to save the Earth from global warming and watch it on one T.V. You seem like a fan of Al Gore."

She tried to keep a straight face even though House was rambling again. It was fun watching him squirm. "Are you inviting me over to watch the game with you?" Truthfully, she enjoyed spending time with him, even if it was completely platonic.

"Sure," he replied weakly.

"Alright," she said nonchalantly.

"Okay…bring the beer." House started toward the other side of the room. "And…this isn't a date," he emphasized before stepping through the doorway that led to his office.

"Thank God," Cameron hollered before he shut the connecting door.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry this took as long as it did. I've just been having writer's block (in terms of where this story is heading) and I start my second year of college soon so my mind is not flowing as freely as it did a few weeks ago. Hopefully this chapter didn't suck too much for you. Please, please, please (that was 3 counts of begging, btw) let me know what you think!!


	9. Chapter 9

_That night…_

What was he thinking? Out of all the people he knew, House had asked _Cameron_ to come over to watch baseball and drink. After one beer too many, she'd probably fix him with a look of disdain, climb back up on her high horse, and trot away. Nothing good could possibly come from this evening and House knew there was only one person to blame for all of this: Wilson. If Wilson wasn't such a terrible friend, the two men would be downing a couple of beers in front of the television like real men and House would not be in such a foul mood.

There was a hesitant knock at his front door and House knew there was no point trying to hide. Without the assistance of his cane, he rose from the sofa and opened the front door. Cameron stood on the other side with a Budweiser 12-pack in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. She was casually dressed wearing dark denim skinny jeans, a forest green t-shirt, and a black cardigan. House also noticed that she had traded her comfortable work heels for the more daring stilettos she wore now. He was not normally the type of person to observe someone's shoes, but not everyone had legs like Cameron's.

House then scanned the drinks again and quirked an eyebrow at her choice of beverage. "I thought I told you to bring beer, not some generic shit you used to drink underneath your high school bleachers."

"Well, you didn't exactly tell me what kind you preferred and I hate beer. Plus, you don't really seem like the picky kind," she countered.

He then eyed her other hand suspiciously. "What's in the bag?"

She sighed. "I figured you would hate my beer choice so I brought a back-up." Just then she pulled a bottle of Smirnoff vodka from the paper bag.

House was surprised that it wasn't wine or some girly apple-and-cranberry-flavored alcohol. "I'll have you know that if you're looking to take advantage of me by forcing alcohol down my throat, then you're wasting your time—I'm saving myself for Angelina Jolie."

"You've foiled my evil plan…and I _would've gotten away_ with it, too, if it weren't for those meddling ___kids._" The Scooby Doo allusion didn't get past House and he snorted his approval.

"Besides, it's not like I'm missing out on much anyway." Cameron couldn't pass up the opportunity to take a cheap shot at her boss.

"Hey, hey, hey! I may not remember much from that night, but I do know that there has _never_ been a single complaint from former passengers aboard the Greg House Train of _Love_."

"Probably because they were all too drunk to remember," Cameron teased. She placed the bottle back in the bag and walked further into House's living room. "Let's just say I'm in no mood for a repeat performance when I already know the results."

House could only grin after those little remarks. There were rare moments when he felt proud of another human being and this was definitely one of those moments. In the three years they had worked together, Cameron had grown as a person and as a doctor. She was too caring in the beginning, focusing on the patient and not the illness itself. After spending some time with House, she had learned to keep her emotions in check and in doing so, Cameron evolved as a doctor. The bad news was that she was becoming too good at these sniping matches between the two of them.

She was beginning to look uncomfortable at the obvious implications of her last statement and he took notice. "On that note, let's get this bottle open, shall we?"

He alleviated whatever tension that conversation might have caused and she was thankful. There was no faster way to kill an evening than by bringing up a problematic rendezvous from the past.

House limped back into his kitchen to retrieve some glasses and the pizza he had ordered earlier in the evening.

"Do you realize you recorded like, 10 episodes of some TLC show about sextuplets?" she shouted from the living room.

"Did I say you could go through my TiVo?" he shouted back, searching through the cupboards for some glasses.

"If answering a question with another question is your way of dodging my question, it won't work," came Cameron's response.

House was beginning to miss the naïve and soft-spoken girl from so many years ago who would never talk this way to her boss.

"I saw the title and thought it was some group sex show—the kind I never pass up. I could always use some T_ender_ L_oving_ C_are_." He hoped it would be enough to shut Cameron up, but she had learned, probably from Wilson, how to spot his weakness and prance on it like a predator to its prey.

"Right. I kind of thought you were watching it in preparation for our child." She spoke before thinking and once again regretted her choice of words. "Sorry."

House walked back into the room with the pizza and glasses. "Are you still hung up on this thing?" He asked her in a tone that suggested he was genuinely interested in finding out the source of her anxiety.

"Let's just watch the game." Cameron brushed off his concerns since she herself was not certain if the whole situation still bothered her.

xxxxxxxxxx

They watched the majority of the game in a comfortable silence while sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. Most of the banter took place between innings and of course, the ever-present grunts of displeasure and cheers of approval.

House had created a drinking game at the beginning of the first inning giving Cameron an opportunity to loosen up and himself the opportunity to drink excessively without any repercussions. The game started with chugging a beer anytime the announcer said something so ridiculously nonsensical that the only way to drown the guy out was to drink. They were quickly on the road to intoxication before the second inning so that game ended.

Slowly the beer gave way to vodka around the seventh inning stretch and the drinking game was replaced with good ol' fashioned drinking. By the end of the game, beer bottles, shot glasses, and an empty pizza box littered House's coffee table. The two doctors were zonked out on the couch, neither quite ready to move. The Yankees beat Houston 2 to 1, but pretty much everything following the seventh inning was a bit hazy to the two viewers.

Cameron clumsily lifted herself off the sofa first and grabbed a few bottles from the table to rinse out. House rolled his eyes at the woman's inability to leave a mess alone. "I've heard of funny drunks and quiet drunks, but this is the first time I have ever seen a cleaning drunk."

"This mess is too…messy." She paused for a second going over her last statement and then continued when she decided it was sufficiently coherent. "I know you won't clean it anyway."

"That's what maids are for," he shot back.

Cameron brought the bottles to the sink, rinsed them out and placed them in a bag which she could only assume was his recycling despite the numerous Kraft singles wraps.

She stumbled back over to the sofa looking for her long-forgotten shoes and purse. She was seconds away from calling for her footwear when she spotted them under the table.

Cameron got on both hands and knees and reached for her stilettos, giving House a perfect visual of her backside.

House saw her fumblings and wasn't exactly displeased with the view she was offering. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for my shoes. I never go anywhere without 'em," she replied.

"There is no way you're driving home," he said.

"I'll just call a cab."

"Then what? On a Saturday morning, you'll call another cab to come by my place to pick up your car and then drive 15 miles back home?" House did not really know why he was doing what he was doing. That certainly was happening a lot lately.

Cameron merely shrugged since her initial plan extended as far as calling the cab.

All House knew was that his mouth was moving faster than his brain could process and he had consumed a lot of alcohol which was undoubtedly the reason for the next thing that came out of his mouth. "You can crash here for the night."

Cameron was shocked that House was opening his home to her. "Oh, I don't know if that's…um," she was about to turn down his offer but then she looked at his face. She could tell that this was his way of offering a figurative olive branch to her and she wasn't going to pass it up. "…Alright. Thank you."

Instead of the customary 'No problem' or 'You're welcome', he just nodded. "You'll be on the couch."

"Gee, thanks."

He rose from the couch and limped slowly down the hallway. Cameron wondered if she said something that bothered him, but he returned a couple seconds later with some spare linens, a large t-shirt, and sweatpants. "If the clothes don't fit, I give you permission to sleep without them."

She involuntarily blushed at his remark. "Thanks."

House chose to ignore her second sincere 'thanks' in a span of less than two minutes. "A certain oncologist has informed me that the couch is very comfortable to sleep on so…"

"I'll be fine," Cameron assured him.

"Well…'night," he finished awkwardly.

"Goodnight."

Cameron had some reservations about spending an entire evening with House and his constant supply of insults, but he had surprised her. His jokes were less harsh…or maybe she was just adapting to such an acquired taste. Perhaps she had finally learned the trick that turned a grumpy House into a tolerable House: alcohol. Or maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Longest chapter yet and I managed to post it before 1 a.m. which is early for me, sadly enough!! So, I tried to write this chapter as best as I could but I'll let you guys be the judge of that. I hate H/C dialogue that disappoints.

I always love reading your feedback so don't hold back! Well...hold back a little if you hate it. Thanks for reading and reviewing!!


	10. Chapter 10

The creaking of House's bedroom door woke him at what felt like an ungodly hour. He rolled onto his left side, looked in the direction of the hallway and saw nothing but dark space. House decided the night was playing tricks on him until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness but once they did, he was able to identify the shadowy figure as none other than Cameron.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked as sleepiness gave way to confusion, which then turned into irritation.

"I was cold," came the half-whisper from his left.

"Then grab another blanket. The closet's—" before House could finish his sentence, he felt her soft touch on the right side of his face.

He was momentarily stunned at the feel of her delicate hand caressing his cheek. House fought the urge to reach up and pull her down. He quickly snapped out of his haze. "Look Cameron, I don't think this is…"

"This is…what? Such a good idea? House, stop thinking so much. Just…just stop thinking altogether."

He could barely see her in this darkness, but sensed her drifting closer to him. He chose to follow orders for once and just stop thinking.

Cameron stepped closer and softly dropped her lips upon his in the gentlest touch imaginable. Just as quickly as it happened, her touch lifted. House wondered if he was still a little drunk and if the kiss was real at all until her next action expelled the doubts from his mind completely.

She confidently pushed him onto his back, swung her leg over his torso and lowered herself on top of his pelvis, which was quickly and involuntarily responding to her actions.

House did not question this sudden, seemingly random, act of desire. If she was willing, then who was he to deny her eagerness?

Cameron grabbed both sides of his face and brought her lips down to his with more force this time. He finally regained control of his limbs, raising his right hand to grasp her neck gently but with strength. She thrust her tongue forward and House opened his mouth to allow her entrance.

Cameron only offered him enough to keep him wanting more, it seemed. The more he pursued, the more she pulled away. He was becoming increasingly frustrated as her lips recoiled whenever he attempted to increase his exploration of her mouth.

Suddenly she pulled away altogether. The room was pitch black and he couldn't see a thing. Not the outline that was straddling him just a moment before, not even the twinkle in her eyes. House realized his eyes were shut and opened them as quickly as he could. The sun was shining in through his window.

He looked at his alarm clock and found that it was 8:30 a.m. House pulled the pillow from underneath his head and pressed the down cushion onto his face as a loud groan escaped his lips. Luckily, the pillow completely blocked the powerful sun from House's eyes and silenced his growl.

_Had that been a dream?_ _Of course it was_, he deduced, ignoring the attentiveness of his lower extremity_. _Nothing _that_ intriguing ever happened while he was sleeping.Sex dreams were not uncommon to House, but the subject of these dreams usually took the form of Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, or sometimes both. Perhaps it was because Cameron was the last person he saw before he went to bed or maybe it was the recent roller coaster ride that was their relationship. This was _not_ something he was about to analyze, however.

Without looking, House patted the top of his nightstand, manually searching for his Vicodin. After dry swallowing two pills, he rose from the bed and limped out of his room. He was alarmed to find that he was not alone.

Cameron was in his kitchen looking extremely comfortable, while House stood in the hallway looking completely uncomfortable. She was still wearing his t-shirt but had slipped on her jeans from the night before. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail with brown strands escaping the hold of her hair-tie. The scene was almost too homey.

"Have any good dreams?" She asked, waking him from his morning daze.

"No!" he answered hurriedly, wondering if she had some sort of ESP that could pick up on his insecurities.

"Whoa. I'm sorry I asked," she said without looking up from whatever she was cooking on the stove.

"No, it's just...what are you still doing here anyway? And what's with the shirt?" he asked defensively.

Cameron was slightly miffed by his questions but tried her best not to show it. Any weakness she expressed was just more ammunition for him. "I thought...I just wanted to show you my appreciation for letting me stay here last night so I thought I would make you breakfast. Then I checked your fridge and pantry and came to the realization that you live like an anorexic teenager. So I walked to that little store down the block and picked up a few things. And I'm sorry about the shirt. I'll take it off right now." She started walking toward the bathroom when he blocked her path.

"No, you don't have to. I mean…," he shook his head. "What did you get?"

Cameron slowly turned around and walked back into the kitchen area. "Um, just enough for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, some fruit, orange juice..."

"Sounds great. But replace the juice and fruit with black coffee and some Mickey Mouse-shaped chocolate chip pancakes."

"Oh sorry, I left my cookie cutters at home." She playfully smacked her forehead and muttered partially under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear, "why didn't I think ahead?"

Cameron cracked an egg into a bowl, careful not to drop any bits of shell. "How do you take your eggs?"

"Scrambled, with a little pepper and crushed Vicodin sprinkled on top."

She poured the scrambled eggs into the pan and began mixing. Cameron added some pepper but decided to leave out his requested garnish. She wouldn't take part in enabling his addiction.

"So what was it about?"

"What was what about?"

"The dream." She returned with a knowing smirk.

"I told you there was no dream," he replied, a little more calmly this time.

"Mhmm."

House was quickly losing his power over her so he said the first thing that came to his mind. "That shirt makes you look fat."

Cameron scrunched her eyebrows. "Are we back in the third grade? I mean, really, was that the best you could come up with?" She raised both arms in an inquiring manner, the spatula in her right hand adding to the randomness of it all.

"Just get back to cooking, woman."

xxxxxxxxxx

In a compromise between fruit and chocolate chip pancakes, Cameron had made crepes the way her grandma cooked them so many years ago. She placed the food on the table, scooping two crepes onto each of their plates. Even though he persistently complained about the lack of chocolate chips throughout the meal, House requested seconds and Cameron really wasn't surprised.

"So that was a good game," House said as a way to prevent an uncomfortable eating environment, a situation these two doctors were all too familiar with.

"Yea," she replied noncommittally.

"Not a Yankees fan?"

"Not really a baseball fan," Cameron said with an innocent smile.

"Seriously? Then why come over?" he asked with earnest curiosity.

She paused to think of the right answer but offered the truth instead. "You asked."

House ignored the subtle implication of her response. "How can any red-blooded American not like baseball?"

"It's not very exciting and it just…never ends," she answered with a look of distaste.

"Are you kidding?" He was surprised, more so that she disliked the sport than that she wanted to spend her whole evening watching a game that didn't appeal to her just because he had asked.

"No. I mean, I was always more into football anyway. It's much more entertaining. Less middle-aged guys with beer guts and more muscular men in tight pants."

"That's understandable…the exciting part, not the tight pants part." Cameron looked at him with an amused expression. He decided to quit digging himself into a deeper hole. "So, which team do you follow?"

"I used to watch The Bears but…I don't really follow them anymore," she replied.

"Did you grow up and finally realize that they suck?" House deadpanned.

"No, I just don't watch as much anymore. And what's with the third degree?"

"Hold on. You don't just stop liking something without a reason. Spill."

Cameron knew this was just like House to try and uncover every little mystery about someone's past. She was uncomfortable sharing information like this with anyone let alone House. There were times when Cameron felt a strange type of bond with him; she might even go as far as to say that they were becoming friends…in the dysfunctional sort of way that he made friends. However, his past behavior indicated that once he gained her trust, House would usually do something so extreme as to dash all the confidence and faith she held in him. And sharing with him a personal story was almost like releasing a mutated influenza virus into the hospital: stupid and would likely spread around the entire building by the end of the day. Cameron never did know when to hold back.

"I used to watch football all the time with my dad," she began hesitantly. "I remember every year at the beginning of football season he would say, 'This is their year, I can feel it.' It never was their year but it always reassured me to hear him say it. Anyway, my parents got divorced when I was 13 and my dad moved to Baltimore. No more football games, no more Sunday morning pancakes. I mostly saw him during holidays and it was never really the same. I guess I was never the same."

House noticed a distant look in her eyes, almost as if she were trying to remember something she had kept hidden for too long. Maybe she wasn't as perfect as the façade she maintained. _Everyone has scars._

This was the most he had heard about her family and he wasn't about to say something to upset her. So he did what was appropriate and kept his mouth shut. Without words, House poked at the last crepe with his fork and plopped it on Cameron's plate. She offered him a silent smile as a way of saying thank you for more than just the crepe.

After they finished breakfast and Cameron loaded the dishwasher, she gathered her belongings, figuring it was time to leave.

"I had a nice time," she offered.

House nodded in return which didn't surprise Cameron in the least.

"I'll see you Monday."

"Right."

He closed the door and sat in the quiet of his now empty home.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I've been completely absent. I just got a new computer and took a trip to Berkeley and I have a multitude of other excuses but I'm holding back. I start school in a week -bleh- so I can't promise steady updates and I'm not sure how much I like this chapter but it is really long so I hope that helps. Reviews will definitely encourage me to write some more! That wasn't a threat, btw...or maybe it was.


	11. Chapter 11

_I love writing House/Wilson banter. So much fun!_

* * *

House's phone began buzzing. He looked at the caller ID and with a huff, accepted the call.

"What," he said into the phone louder than necessary. It might not be early in the morning, but that didn't mean he welcomed calls on his lazy Sundays.

"Good morning to you too!" Wilson's chipper voice sounded off.

"Morning? It's past noon."

"Well, I just got out of bed so—"

"Gross." House said in a tone that suggested disgust, hoping it would translate through the phone.

"What are you up to?"

"Just…cleaning up." House opened the dishwasher, which contained the newly cleaned bowls and plates that Cameron loaded for him earlier that day. Maybe if he offered her a raise, she'd start cleaning up for him at home as well as in the office. He always appreciated cereal that didn't taste like tomato soup.

"Right," Wilson replied unbelievingly. "I'm coming over since I sort of blew you off last night."

"What's the real reason?"

"Sarah's working and I'm bored."

"Fine. I've got some leftover beer anyway for you to mooch."

"Left over from what?"

House winced when the question was directed his way. He internally debated whether or not to tell Wilson about his non-date with Cameron last night. Wilson, however, made the decision for him.

"Oh, got to go. I'll be there in twenty."

_Twenty-five minutes later…_

House opened the door and stepped aside so that Wilson could enter. The oncologist was holding a plastic grocery bag, which had House's curiosity piqued. "What's in the bag?"

"I brought over some chips and hummus since I knew there would be nothing edible in your home."

"That's where you are wrong, my friend." House then popped the cap off his Vicodin in an exaggerated manner and swallowed two.

"My mistake." Wilson surveyed the living room and noticed that it was surprisingly clean. "Wow, it is actually tidy in here. So, was it the cleaning lady or a pro who couldn't take the smell?"

House smirked at the question. "Neither. The Brawny man and Mr. Clean stopped by last night. We shared some beers, had a few laughs."

"I guess I've been replaced."

"Since that stripper buddy of yours has been occupying all your time, I branched out to some new friends," House said spitefully.

"She's not a…," Wilson thought twice about it and decided to drop the topic altogether. "Anything good on television?"

"There was a marathon of Dirty Jobs that I TiVo'd," House threw out the suggestion.

"Sounds good."

"Fine, start it up. I'll get the drinks," he shouted as he walked into his kitchen.

As Wilson was setting up the recording, he noticed something odd.

"Since when do you watch 'A Baby Story'?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have like three episodes recorded." He scanned the episode information and found something else. "Plus, you have a season pass for the show."

House had no idea what Wilson was yammering about. There was no way he had recorded such a sappy show, not even accidentally. "What are you talking ab—" At that moment, the answer struck him. He knew exactly who his mystery TiVo hacker was. The only other person who was alone in a room with his TiVo. She had the means and the opportunity. House smiled to himself. "…must have been that damn DVR fairy."

House limped back into the living room and handed Wilson a beer, which turned out to be the wrong move completely.

"Since when do you drink Budweiser?"

"I don't," House said without further explanation.

"Then why did you pick some up?" asked Wilson.

"I didn't."

"Thank you for being so forthcoming." The oncologist knew something was up, he just couldn't figure it out. "You're hiding something."

House exhaled sharply and threw his hands up in defeat. "You got me. I was hoping you would bring it up before I had to but…I just can't wait any longer. You smell like a slaughterhouse."

"Sarah bought me a new cologne and you're evading again." Wilson would not relent on a topic that so obviously bugged his friend.

House raised his eyebrows and took a long swig from the bottle. Wilson beamed with excitement. "That was a tell. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" House glared at his friend with intensity.

It was just then that Wilson noticed a neatly folded blanket and pillow on the coffee table.

"Who was here last night?"

"Your mom."

He chose to ignore the juvenile comment and pressed on. "Well, I remember from our conversation yesterday that…" The idea struck Wilson like a flash of light. A smile spread wide and large across his face and it took all of House's willpower not to punch his pal right in the smug mug. "It all fits."

"You can leave now."

Wilson ignored his friend and processed all this new information, with a look of enlightenment that could give Buddha a run for his money. "I mean, the beer, the clean house, those shows you have recorded. I bet you even gave her something to sleep in…if there _was_ any sleeping, that is." With each revelation, Wilson grew more and more excited.

House massaged the bridge of his nose, waiting for the virtually couch-jumping, Tom Cruise impressionist to settle down slightly. "If you don't mind shutting up for half a second, I would tell you that it was completely innocent, there was no sex, and it's all your fault that I had to ask her over to begin with," said House accusingly.

"Oh, you _had _to invite Cameron over? This is just so beautiful," Wilson gleamed. "Look, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. You know that. But, it's just…so easy."

"If you won't leave, then I will."

"Alright, alright. I'm done."

House clicked through his TiVo without another word.

They watched three episodes before Wilson got an urgent call that required his attention. He said it was a patient but House knew a booty call when he heard one.

Wilson was past the front door but could not leave without offering a few parting words. "I think it's good…whatever _it_ is. She's good for you. I wish you would see that."

House practically slammed the door on his friend's nose without responding. Unfortunately, slamming the door didn't erase what Wilson had said and House couldn't stop thinking about his words.

To clear his mind, he spent the rest of the day watching the television shows he had missed during the week. When all the good shows ran out, House attempted to sit through one episode of A Baby Story as a last resort, of course. That attempt was short-lived when five minutes into the episode, the couple thanked God for blessing them with this "little miracle."

He shut off the television, deciding this time was as good as any to order in some food. After placing an order at his favorite Chinese restaurant, House looked around his apartment. For some reason, it felt abnormally quiet. The fact that he was alone and the television was off was undoubtedly the reason; however, this was the first time that the room was completely noise-free it seemed. No air conditioning, no street construction, not even the constantly feuding couple that lived next door.

Silence was something that House usually relished but right then his place just felt so desolate. And to him, that feeling was the most unsettling part.

* * *

**A/N:** It's very short, compared to past chapters but I move back to school tomorrow and this might be the last update for a little while so I wanted to get it posted (Sorry.). Btw, I've never seen an episode of A Baby Story, but I'm sure in at least one episode a couple has said something along those lines.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I'm so terribly sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. Excuse time: School has been extremely hectic (university quarter system, ugh), too many midterms and papers due at the same time, sleep-deprivation (sorry if this chap. makes no sense), sadness over canon, and my indecision about where to take this story next have all played a role in making me such a terrible updater. Anyway, I think I'm finally starting to get somewhere with this fic. There's not too much happening in this chapter but it will pick up soon. I hope you like it!!

p.s. Why did they have to go and change this website's layout?

* * *

To the average middle class worker, Monday morning was a dreadful time when weekend comfort was replaced by weekday stress. To Dr. Allison Cameron, however, it was her favorite time of the week. Not because she enjoyed her job more than any other person. It was because the newness of the week allowed her to believe anything was possible. Perhaps it was her eternal optimistic nature that brought about these feelings or maybe she was just an overly hopeful person. This could be the week she won the lottery or the most interesting case arrived on the doorstep of the Diagnostics office.

Her blossoming friendship with House was nothing to frown about either.

She mentally cursed herself for feeling anything besides admiration for his great mind and refused to admit that she secretly hoped he would take her in his arms and carry her into the sunset.

This wasn't the House she knew, nor would he ever become such a romantic cliché. Cameron knew he wasn't the most selfless or caring individual, but that didn't stop her from enjoying nearly every second she was around him. She had tried on too many occasions to ignore his faults and live in an idealistic haze, but House would never be the kind of man she needed. The kind of man that would stop at nothing to make her feel good or in the very least, open up enough to let someone else in. Cameron needed someone who could reciprocate love and to the best of her knowledge, House could never do that. _Would _never do that.

But that was something she wouldn't think about. Work was work and her personal life was something she preferred keeping out of the office. Unfortunately, some things were just out of her control.

She arrived at work precisely at 7:30 on a particularly gloomy day. Cameron entered the conference room before any of her peers had arrived. She dropped off her purse and a small plastic bag at her regular station, prepared a large pot of coffee, and finally took a seat at the conference table. She grabbed the large stack of unsorted mail and began separating the letters. Letters asking for Dr. House's attendance at a seminar or as a guest lecturer were immediately tossed in the trashcan. Thank you notes were pushed to the side for Cameron to respond to later and letters requesting a consultation were kept in a maybe pile for further examination. Cameron knew the type of case that House would respond to and those were usually not the kind that came in the mail. She sighed over the separated piles of mail and began the tedious task of playing secretary.

"Doctors never win the lottery," she muttered to herself.

xxxxxxxxxx

"House!" she called out with authority and confidence.

He slowly turned around wondering how Cuddy always managed to track him down within seconds of his arrival. Maybe he would start checking his clothing for small electronic devices. "I swear I've done all my clinic hours for the week and if I haven't…then blame Chase."

"I'm not here about your clinic hours even though I should be. I found you a case." She handed him the file and was about to leave when she remembered something else. "Oh, did everything get sorted with Dr. Cameron?"

"I've taken care of it." House brushed her off with as much indifference as he could muster.

She narrowed her eyes warily. "Remember, House. If you did something that—"

"Step off, already!" He strode past her to the elevators and punched the button with more force than necessary. Cuddy crossed her arms debating whether or not to push the subject, but decided this was probably a matter that did not involve her.

xxxxxxxxxx

As Cameron was politely declining the third written request for a consultation, Foreman and Chase walked through the door arguing; the subject of said argument did not interest Cameron in the least. Just as the discussion settled down as the two agreed to disagree and Cameron scribbled House's signature on the last note, their boss entered the room with folders in his free hand.

Chase immediately spotted the stack of files. "Do we have a case?"

"What's the magic word?" House baited.

Chase bit his lip in aggravation. "Do we have a case…please?"

"I love it when you beg. Thirty-three year old male…" House messily scrawled the symptoms on the white board. The case was less than thrilling on the surface, but the team's track record assured each of them not to write it off just yet. "Go."

"Tuberculosis," Foreman said quickly.

"Doesn't explain the joint pain," Cameron pointed out.

"Okay, Tuberculosis _and_ he runs too much," he added.

Chase rolled his eyes at the implausibility of such a diagnosis…especially the second time in a span of a few months. "Yes, that sounds good considering TB is so common in this region. Rheumatoid Arthritis."

"The file says here that James came in complaining about joint _pains_. There are no signs of inflammation," explained Cameron.

House raised his eyebrows affectedly. "Already on a first name basis with the guy? Maybe we should actually diagnose the patient before you jump into his gurney."

Cameron only rolled her eyes in the direction of her boss knowing that showing anger was exactly what he expected. The rest of the team chose to ignore House's insensitivity completely.

"Just because joint inflammation is not in the file, doesn't mean it's not there," Chase shot back.

"A heart disorder?" Cameron suggested, wasting no time on Chase's diagnosis.

"Sarcoidosis," Foreman said halfheartedly.

"And there it is!" House half glanced at his watch. "Only took—"

"—Sarcoidosis fits if the patient is experiencing—"

"Alright, alright. Do a chest X-ray, draw some blood, and get a detailed patient history. If he just returned from a month-long safari in Africa, be sure to take a mental note," he said dismissively.

All three doctors left the room quickly, dividing the tasks between them.

House remained in the room, staring at the white board. He was already bored with this case.

Stepping into his office, he slammed the door shut hoping to ward off any unwanted visitors, a rarity for him but he wasn't about to take any chances. House stuck the small iPod buds in his ears and turned the volume up to its nearly maximum level. He mostly used the music to help him think; clearing his mind of all things medical usually produced results quicker than slaving over files and journals.

Instead of a clear head, however, Wilson's inane words from last night were still reverberating through his mind. Only the most desperate man feels the need to play matchmaker at every available opportunity, House decided. It was a completely casual evening that Wilson had, once again, blown up to mean more than it did.

Sure, the evening was filled with friendly banter and the occasional serious chat between the young immunologist and her grumpy boss. Sure, he found his female subordinate incredibly attractive and if it were almost _any_ other woman, he'd be mildly interested.

But this was Cameron. The damaged girl with a damaged past and a desire for all things damaged. Getting involved with her in any manner besides professional was something that could never happen. The reasons why it would never work severely outnumbered the reasons why it might. It was absurd for anyone to think that it could end in any other way besides disaster.

Still with all of this rationalization, why couldn't he stop thinking about her?


End file.
